How Soon You Can Forget
by Troid
Summary: What should be a set of important details for the mission becomes nothing but distractions for Samus Aran as she tries her hardest not to think about the target she's hunting. Somewhere inside this club is the one Samus wants so much to forget, but first she knows she has to meet her face to face. Samus/Melissa.


Wrote this almost a week ago, and finally had a chance to type it up and publish it. This was written as a "club hookup fic" for the International Day of Femslash, July 14, and it ended up being... well, that, but not particularly good. Call it self-indulgent nonsense, call it wishful thinking. Anyway, belated Happy Femslash Day and enjoy.

* * *

The music blasting from what must have been wall-to-wall speakers definitely surpassed safety standards, Samus thought. By a good margin, too.

Sonic filters and the option to block out the deafening noise at the touch of a button were missing, as her helmet was currently not present. In fact, her entire armor suit had been left behind in her gunship, a move which, though it was necessary, Samus was thoroughly regretting. Stealth was a specialty of hers, but the kind of stealth that meant cloaking herself from sensors and slipping around surveillance cameras, not the kind of stealth where she would be seen by hundreds of eyes and would still have to not draw any attention to herself—not the kind of stealth where it mattered what she was wearing. No one had ever accused Samus Aran of being inconspicuous.

Hundreds of eyes may have been an understatement. The club was packed, crammed full of enough people to exceed its capacity, if it had had one. Most were humans, but not all; in any case, within the sea of bodies and laser lights it hardly mattered. Samus had learned the layout of each of the large establishment's floors—looking up, it seemed a miracle, no one had yet pitched over the railings onto the lower dance floor—but navigation was made very difficult by the limited space even in the bar areas, and Samus couldn't afford to just shove anyone out of her path…even though many would probably not have noticed. As she made her way, she could have sworn the music was kicked up another notch, an especially driving beat replacing the previous number. Her target would be just ahead…

There had been another issue with attire, even once the decision was made to leave her armor behind. In this situation, Samus's usual selection of clothes for a mission without her suit was _too_ discreet; a hood and drab cloak concealing her would draw as much attention as the armor in a place where everyone was concerned with revealing as much of themselves as possible. But she couldn't go the other direction and really dress to fit in, either—a truly appropriate outfit for this club would draw far too much of a very different kind of attention. So she's settled on a rather simple dress—deep blue—and left it at that.

She needn't have worried too much. Inside the main area of the club, the only times anyone really saw anything were the instants a strobe light would illuminate the dance floor. Samus briefly hoped her target was where she thought she was, and wasn't dancing…but not that wouldn't be like her at all.

She should have been focusing more on her mission, but in truth, she didn't want to. Distracting herself by thinking about the decibel levels, her dress, her planning, or the way the lasers splayed out in webs above the heads of the dancers and shifted from one color to another depending on the angle she looked at them…distracting herself that way was preferable to thinking about _her_ any more than she had to. Because if she thought too much about her target, there was the distinct possibility she'd turn around and walk right out of the club, or worse, continue on her way without doing what she needed to once she got there.

The dance floors were beginning to be left behind, and a fair amount of ambient light was returning to her surroundings. Similar to the entrance areas but obviously more expensive, she began to see bars, tables, and couch seats around her. Stepping over a line on the floor, she was aware an undoubtedly large amount of credits had been automatically withdrawn from her account—a cover charge for this, the VIP area. Whatever VIP meant to anyone else, to this club it meant somebody with a large enough wallet.

Strains of music mercifully fading behind her, Samus quickened her pace a little, aware that in the new lighting somebody might be able to identify her. Once again this was an uncommon worry, but then, her target had chosen an uncommon type of security—extremely exposed to the public, instead of securely hidden away at the center of some high-tech fortress. Of course, her location had been unknown at the start, but Samus knew the narrow range of worlds she could have fled to, and it didn't take her long to find the woman. Having a target who's off the planetary grid is expected for any bounty hunter.

With the crowds now thinned completely, Samus glanced around her as she went, trying her best to check each recessed lounge area without anyone noticing her looks. The VIP area wasn't as large as the rest of the club, and as Samus neared the back of it without seeing the girl she was looking for, she began to feel the slight precursors to panic. Had she been wrong? Was the girl not here, or not on this planet at all? She had been so, so sure.

She was stopped dead in her tracks when a hand reached out to touch her shoulder, and a voice whispered in her ear, "Are you looking for me, Samus?"

Frozen in place, Samus was painfully aware that Melissa might be a second away from sending enough electric current through her body to char her bones. A second passed. Then: the hand was joined by another on her opposite arm, and she could feel soft hair brushing against the back of her neck as Melissa leaned into her. "I missed you."

She couldn't resist. She closed her eyes, swearing it would be her one moment of weakness, and let herself be lost in the feel of the woman pressing their bodies together. Then she pulled away and turned to face her, the same blonde hair framing the blue eyes she knew so well—winter blue. She was still wearing the hair clip, with its small pink dots so resembling a Metroid's nuclei. And she was smiling slightly, but it was the wrong kind of smile. The cold one.

Another second later and the girl hadn't stepped forward to break her neck, so Samus finally spoke. "You could have run." It wasn't a question.

Melissa nodded. "I could have run."

Silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the thrums of bass coming from further back in the club—private soundproof rooms undoubtedly cost extra. At length, Melissa turned and motioned Samus toward the bar. "Come on," she said. "I'll buy you a drink."

That caught Samus off guard. Nothing occurred to her to do besides follow the girl, and follow her she did, trying to keep her eyes from fixing on the way Melissa's dark red, strapless dress drifted around her back as she walked. They took two seats at the bar, far enough away from the few other patrons, and Melissa began making a selection on a small holographic screen. "Choose something," she said, upon seeing Samus wasn't doing the same. She looked flatly at the bounty hunter. "Humor me."

After a moment's pause, Samus called up her own screen and ordered herself a drink. "How can you afford to buy me anything? Are you…" She kept her voice low so no one could hear. "…counterfeiting credits?"

Melissa smiled thinly. "It's easy. The Federation's encryption…" She trailed off, but Samus knew what she'd been about to say. _If it were me, I'd do it ten times better._ Choosing not to stray so close to reminisces of the past, Melissa turned away and took a long draught from her glass. Samus was nursing her drink by comparison. "So, Samus," the other woman finally said. "Are you working for the Federation again?" Her voice had an edge to it.

"The Federation doesn't even know you're alive." Samus didn't want to meet Melissa's gaze. "I'm not working for them."

"What, then?" Melissa demanded. "Tying up loose ends?"

Samus didn't respond, and Melissa turned away from her in disgust, taking another drink. It was only after a minute of quiet had passed that she said to Samus, the anger gone from her voice, "I don't blame you." There was still no answer from the bounty hunter, but Melissa went on regardless. "I lied to you for the entirety of our time together. You didn't accept my apology then, and I don't expect you to accept it now. But, Samus…" She waited for Samus to acknowledge her, but she would not. "You should know, I never told anyone about our—"

"Don't," interrupted Samus, looking up at her. Her expression betrayed no hint of pain, but the weight in her eyes did. "Don't talk about that."

"Why not? Because you want to reject it, or…" Samus could hear in Melissa's voice that she wanted to stop herself but couldn't, as if the machine in her had to say it. "Because you want it back?"

Samus looked away. Deep inside her head, where she was only mostly sure Melissa couldn't hear it, she murmured, _Both_.

"Do you wish they had sent you?" Melissa asked suddenly. "The Federation. Do you wish they had sent you here?"

"I'm done with the Federation," said Samus without bitterness. "They're rotten to the core, and it's spreading. Even if I wanted to work for them, I don't think I'm exactly in high favor with the military."

"You didn't answer my question." Melissa was watching her carefully. She moved closer to Samus. "Do you wish the Federation had sent you to kill me? Do you wish it hadn't been your decision?"

Samus took a deep breath. "I just want to forget you. You're…" She met Melissa's eyes briefly. "You're just an android. A machine."

"You don't believe that." Melissa was very close now. "Do you, Samus?"

"No," whispered Samus, "I don't." The woman was a hair's breadth from her. She had sworn there would be no more weakness. Forgetting Melissa was all she wanted to do… It was impossible to tell who leaned forward and closed the gap between them.

The instant her lips met Melissa's, Samus's mind screamed at her to pull back. Its logical protests came to nothing, for her body had a strong grip on itself that demanded it stay attached to the skin beneath her touch, to Melissa, to any part of her she could reach. In the months since she'd last seen Melissa—shot and apparently dead—Samus had struggled to find the loner's spirit that had sustained her through the cruel universe for so many years, but inside she knew it would never be the same. Being connected with Melissa again like this was the worst, most dangerous thing for her, but it felt so unbelievably right…

Finally she pulled away, hands flying from Melissa's back to her shoulder to better separate them, but it was far too late. Already in her mind's eye she could see the light of a hundred shooting stars, shining through the windows of the Bottle Ship and washing over the bare skin of the first person in decades to love her, the only person she'd ever been in love with. She could remember the quiet, affectionate smile—the right kind of smile—that had been the one bright spot on that desolate graveyard of a space station. And she could remember the girl's expression when she told Samus that she'd been lying to her.

"Samus," Melissa was saying in a hushed voice. "Samus, it's all right… Not here… You can forget me soon… Just not here…"

Slowly she realized she had collapsed against Melissa. Her body didn't seem willing to support itself; she couldn't believe memory could be affecting her this much. And…was she crying? She could feel something unfamiliar constricting her chest. She must have practically thrown herself into the other woman's arms. Now Melissa was helping her stand, and they were walking toward the nearby exit. Finally Samus regained enough focus to stand on her own, but it was still a struggle to keep from her mind the memories she'd blocked out for so long.

"I have an apartment," Melissa was saying as they reached the door. "Come back with me… It can all end there."

It was all still a little blurry, but Samus was thinking clearly enough to know that if Melissa wanted to kill her, a back alley was a much better choice than the club. Of course, she didn't think Melissa was going to kill her, but suddenly she found herself wishing she would. For a minute of walking down the darkened city streets, she wished with all her heart that Melissa would just—

"I love you," said Melissa. She wasn't smiling, didn't betray a hint of emotion in her voice, and she wasn't even looking at Samus. But there was something purely honest and innocent about the way she said it. "I never lied about that."

And Samus could feel her resolve fall away completely.

Inside the apartment, Melissa didn't bother turning on the lights. She locked the door behind them, and when she turned to face Samus, the bounty hunter could see she was crying. No tears fell from her eyes, but Melissa couldn't cry like that. "I accept it," she said, a tremor in her voice that no programming could have caused. "Go ahead, Samus. Kill me."

Even in the dim light, Samus thought the girl's eyes looked bright, almost crystalline. Her pale skin made her look like a ghost. Samus said nothing.

"Kill me," Melissa repeated, her hands shaking. "Do it. I deserve it."

After a long pause, Samus asked softly, "Will you apologize one more time?"

"Yes," said Melissa, choked. "I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry I killed so many people. I'm so—"

"You didn't kill those people," Samus cut her off without force. "Wild animals killed them, and you never intended for those to escape."

"What…" For a moment, Melissa just looked at her, shocked speechless. "What are you saying?"

"I'm not here to kill you, Melissa." Brining a hand to Melissa's face, Samus knew she couldn't keep up her act any longer.

"But…why…you were…" Melissa couldn't seem to put her question into words."

"I came here to tell you that Madeline survived. Anthony took her somewhere safe, somewhere the Federation can't find her. I thought you deserved to know that."

"Mother's alive?" Melissa whispered, eyes wide in wonder. "But why—"

"I wanted to tell you that and then I wanted to leave." Samus brushed a stray lock of light blonde hair from Melissa's face. "I didn't want to…" She could feel the tears in her chest again. "I didn't want to still love you."

Melissa sobbed once and hugged Samus tightly, and they both sank to the floor. Their words poured out in a rush, as tangled and desperate as their limbs which sought to remove any barriers to each other's skin.

"I'm sorry I—"

"I don't care. I forgive you. _I'm_ sorry—"

"Why?"

"I let you think I was here to—"

"Don't say another word."

They paused only once, when both their chests were bare and Samus's hands were at Melissa's waist to pull her dress off all the way, and their eyes were locked for an instant. Then they both abandoned thought and Samus finished what she'd started.

By the time Melissa grasped Samus's arm to pull her up and they stumbled to Melissa's bed while wrapped together in a kiss, all their clothes had been discarded. Their skin-on-skin embrace was unbroken, and with their hands and mouths they explored each other's bodies to the delight of rediscovery. And when Melissa's skilled fingers made taut fire spread through Samus's body, when Samus withdrew her tongue from Melissa's slick flesh with trails of glistening liquid stretching between them, the words they exchanged between heavy breaths were very different from dirty nothings. Instead, they were comforts, reassurances, promises.

"They'll never find us here," panted Samus, repositioning herself to give Melissa better access between her legs while simultaneously bending down to pleasure the girl as well.

When Melissa pulled back to draw breath, she said, "I'll never lie to you again." A second later her face was buried as deep in Samus as she could get.

"I'm done — taking — missions," Samus forced the words out just before a flick of Melissa's tongue from below made her moan. "I'm done, I'm…coming… Ah!" She sucked in a sharp breath.

And after that it was only dirty things that were spoken, mixed with quiet moans, hitched breaths, and finally when they were done, one shared whisper of "I love you." And there was never again to be anything either one wanted to forget.


End file.
